“I shall not go to bed to-night, Aunt. My father draws near. His wagon has reached the sand-belt where the dead tree stands.”
“Nonsense, child, the sand-belt is an hour’s ride on horseback from here. Let us pray to God for sleep and good dreams, and then lie down until the day comes.”
“I shall not go to bed to-night; my father is coming.”
“Nonsense, nonsense,—you cannot hear at such a distance.”
“I can hear, and the sound stills the long pain in my heart. My father draws near and nearer.”
“Well—well—perhaps it is true—perhaps—”
She fell upon her knees and threw up her clasped hands. “Oh God, let him not come before my husband is far away. Oh God,—I am blameless.—Grant me only this.”
Elsie approached her with a smile, bent down and encircled her with a protecting arm and then drew her gently to a seat.
“Aunt,—let me talk to you: Do you know that I am often very glad that I was born blind?”
“Glad you are blind?”